


Perspective

by BlueTeaParty



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Space Husbands, Strange ideas about Mandalorian customs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-23 07:30:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23574604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueTeaParty/pseuds/BlueTeaParty
Summary: Series of snippets set within an omegaverse AU.
Relationships: Cara Dune & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Paz Vizla
Comments: 47
Kudos: 284





	1. Sorgan

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is set during episode four on Sorgan.
> 
> It's from Cara's perspective.
> 
> (If you're really curious, Din and Paz have been married for about 10 years in this AU).

Mandalorians, by their very nature, were secretive as fuck.

Cara watched from the porch, her new ally moving easily among the farmers. He was a bit of an enigma to her, his armour effectively hiding any trace of his scent. It was a bit unnerving, to be honest, but she could deal with it.

She knew very little of Mandalorians; only stories from outsider perspectives, but from what she could gather of their alphas, was that they were incredibly aggressive, prone to violence and posturing. As shock troopers, they were frighteningly effective, razing enemy troops to the ground with callous efficiency.

On the other hand though, their omegas were widely considered to be among the most oppressed in the galaxy, rarely leaving their clans. Mandalorian omegas, the rare occasions they were seen, were always dressed head to toe in long robes that reached to the floor. Their cowls covered their faces completely, with a net that allowed them to see. It was always sewn in a facsimile of the Mandalorian helmet, which Cara personally saw as an insult to the one wearing it. A sign that the person underneath was a part of their culture but not a worthy one.

No, Cara really couldn’t reconcile the behaviour of this Mando with either an alpha or omega. He had to be a beta. Not aggressive unless provoked, so level headed and the way he conducted himself around the farmers? He was so polite, so gentle with the children. The armour he wore was almost at odds with the way he acted among the village folk. If she hadn't fought with him before coming here, she honestly would have doubted that he was as capable as his armour’s reputation suggested. And then there was that small alien child he had with him. It was clear that the Mandalorian wasn’t the same species, unless he’d had his ears docked.

Cara snorted at the thought. Not likely. Though it did beg the question about _why_ he had the small child with him. A bounty? Stolen? From what she did know of Mandalorian culture, either could be true. The child clearly trusted him though, so there was that.

She sipped on her spotchka, wondering if it would be easier to just ask the man about the culture that he obviously held dear. Omera had already tried though; asking him about the helmet. That had gone well; the woman had been a little horrified at his answer, based on her expression post the conversation Cara’d eavesdropped on.

Nah, she’d just keep her musings to herself. Though she definitely needed a better topic to dwell on.

\---

The planned assault on the village had gone well, minus one small detail. The Mandalorian had been caught in an explosion, not that he had actually told anyone that. Cara would probably have never found out either, if she hadn’t literally caught the man as he stumbled to the ground.

“Mando, you’re injured.” She tugged him back to his feet, steering him towards his empty hut. “I can help with applying some bacta, so I need to take this armour off.”

His entire body seemed to hunch over, as if he were trying to protect himself, but then she heard him sigh. His hand clutched at her arm, “Anything but the helmet.”

She nodded, “Don’t touch the helmet, got it.”

Mando settled back against the cot with a small sigh, trusting her at her word. Cara got to work, carefully dismantling the layers of beskar plate and material that hid his skin from the world. She frowned as an unexpected scent assaulted her, her nostrils flaring as she inhaled pure _omega_.

“Mando...you’re… _fuck_ ” Cara flinched from him, her hands coming up immediately into a defensive position. “I swear, I didn’t know, I’m not trying to get into your pants or anything, well...I guess I am, but fuck, I swear it’s not because I thought...fuck.”

“Cara,” Mando snickered. “What the fuck are you on about?”

She couldn’t help but avert her eyes and whisper, “I didn’t know you were an omega Mando. I swear. I thought you were a beta, I mean, the way you act, it’s not anything that I’ve heard about with Mandalorian omegas and - ”

“Cara,” he turned his head to look at her. “What's that got to do with anything?”

“We’re here alone, and I’m here pretty much undressing you, and well…” Cara could feel her face getting hotter as the Mandolorian started wheezing under his helmet. His scent broadcasted brightly; tangy amusement that he seemed unable to control.

“I didn’t realise an offer to help rub bacta on someone was an invitation for sex out here Cara, but if makes you feel better, I’m already bonded.”

“You’re bonded?” she squeaked, heart racing. Was she going to have to expect a visit from an outraged alpha that she had dared to touch their omega?

Mando began to laugh. “No, you don’t have to expect a visit from my bondmate. He’s nowhere near here.”

Oh, she’d said that last bit out loud. “Oh thank god, you have no idea how quickly that would get weird.” She may be an alpha, but fuck, she wasn’t raised to be anything less than honourable. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to not be a creep but...fuck...considering what I’ve heard about your people’s omegas, to find out that you’re one is well...fuck.”

The Mandalorian just chuckled. “Stop rambling Cara.”

The use of her name seemed to snap her out of her rambles. “Okay then...how about you take off the armour then?”

She could almost _feel_ the eye rolling behind his helmet, but he did as she bid. "You know, this is one of the reasons I don’t tend to bother telling anyone about my secondary sex. _Aruetii_ like you have some strange ideas."

“Ahrooaytee...what does that mean?”

“Outsider.”

“Ah.” She was curious as hell now but busied herself with preparing the bacta strips. Behind her, she could hear the various pieces of armour coming off, and rustling of the bodysuit coming undone. Cara turned back around to find the Mandalorian’s upper body exposed, her eyes lingering on the bond mark on the other’s neck. It felt beyond awkward for a reason she couldn’t quite put into words. They had fought together, brought peace to this small village together and yet, it felt like this changed everything.

“Cara?” his helmeted head moved slightly, before she could hear a slight sigh from the man. “Give me the bacta Cara, I’ll do it.”

“No, its okay...I’m being stupid.”

A low chuckle came from Mando. “That you are. You don’t act like this around the village omegas - ” He cut off with a short hiss as Cara applied the bacta strip to one of his more nasty bruises.

“You’re right. I don’t.”

“Then why with me?”

She turned to gather the next strip rather than reply right away. Turning back around, she pressed it against another bruise. “You’re probably going to call me a stupid ahroaitii - “

“ _Aruetii_.”

“- ahroetii for this, but everything I’ve heard about Mandalorian omegas is that you are practically enslaved, one of the most oppressed people in the galaxy. And to learn that this badass Mando beta, is actually an omega and somehow out on their own when...Mando...why are you laughing so hard?”

“I’m sitting here, literally in beskar armour, surrounded by weapons, and like you said, capable in combat and you’re talking to me about ‘oppression’?” He chortled. “Cara, I’m sorry but think about what you’re saying for a second.”

“Yeah, that’s fair. You sure you’re not laughing at me trying to speak your language, though?”

“That’s pretty funny too,” he admitted, chuckling until Cara put the next strip of bacta on.

Silence filled the hut then. Cara applying the necessary bacta, and Mando allowing her.

“You know I trust you, right?”

Cara blinked. Her hands paused above his back, the bacta strip beginning to slowly drip down. She hadn’t realised it, but now that he had mentioned it...He had shown it to her when asking her to accompany him to the village, when he handed her his rifle unquestioningly during the battle. And now, he trusted her with his literal back and secondary sex. She smiled, and pressed the last of the bacta against him.

“I don’t know why, but thank you. I’ll honour that trust.”

The omega chuckled, “Don’t be getting flowery on me now, Dune.” His helmet twisted to face her, and for a moment, Cara imagined she could see his eyes.

She laughed. “I don’t even know your name, Mando.” Cara wasn’t expecting anything from the statement, so she was sure that the omega was clearly able to scent her surprise when he answered.

“It’s Din.”

“Din eh?” Cara grinned. “So, question?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you get sick of being called ‘Mando’ all the time?”

Din laughed. “A little,” he admitted. He stood from the cot, stretching his back out. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. It’s what friends do yeh?”

He nodded, reaching for the discarded armour. Gingerly, he replaced it, each piece sliding into place with practiced movements. Slowly, his scent disappeared, rendering him silent again. “Do you know where the child is?”

Cara nodded, “He was with Winta. I’ll bet he’s still there.”

Din left the hut without another word. Before, she would have thought him aloof. Before, she had contemplated that he had stolen the child. But now? She suspected that he was just naturally quiet, a man of few words that let his actions speak for him. No one would go through that much just to protect something they didn’t give a shit about.

Underneath that armour was a man who cared greatly and deeply.


	2. Coruscant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set between season 1 and 2.
> 
> Good husbands hear each other's concerns out and talk through what's upsetting them, in order to work them out, right?
> 
> Doesn't quite look that way to Cara when she can't speak mando'a.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoy the update <3 This year just drained my writing muse completely <3 Thank-you for your kind words on Chapter One (I was surprised to see how many people liked this fic, and so I made sure to come back to it.). I have more chapters planned, if people want to see more!
> 
> Riduur - spouse  
> aruetii - outsider  
> utreekov - fool, idiot (lit. emptyhead)  
> Ori'buyce, kih'kovid - All helmet, no head. (Common term of derision for someone with an overdeveloped sense of authority)

It had been months since Cara had last seen Din. It had been a wild ride on Nevarro. Killing Imperials had sounded like a fantastic idea in theory but things had gotten out of hand so quickly. The Mandalorian had lost so much; Kuiil, an ally that Din had obviously trusted with his life, and his family.

The pile of armour lying abandoned in the sewers and the pure, unadulterated anger that Din had levelled towards Greef had made her skin crawl. Even through his armour, Din’s scent had permeated the room, and she could only watch as he made to attack the man. Only the entrance of that armoured Mandalorian woman had stopped him.

And seeing him take down a fucking tie-fighter by himself? Fucking incredible.

After Din left the planet, Cara took a few contracts from Greef to help pass the time. She had needed the credits anyway. One of them led her here to Coruscant and had been easy enough to take care of.

For now, she could relax, sitting at a cafe of sorts down in the lower levels. Even Imperial control hadn’t changed the Uscru Entertainment District, though post-Imperial life hadn’t done the planet any favours, with the New Republic wanting to distance itself from the planet as much as possible. The bright lights seemed desperate, the streets run down and no longer maintained. The people here wanted to drown their sorrows, and the district had a variety of pleasures on offer to do just that. Vaguely, she wondered what Din was up to these days.

Still, she felt that familiar itch at the back of her neck, instincts honed from war warning her that something was happening. It was a feeling that had saved her life more than once. Turning in her chair, she watched the throng of people move about, wondering what had tipped her off.

 _There!_ Weaving through the crowd; a hooded figure. Her eyes narrowed. Whoever they were, it was clear that they were being pursued by a group of asshole alphas, whooping and hollering. The crowd parted, apparently unwilling to get involved. The easiest thing to do would be ignore it and mind her own business.

But when had she ever taken the easy route?

Cara sighed heavily, throwing the last of her drink back. She tossed a credit onto the table, and stalked onto the street.

Outside, she could scent the pursued omega’s panic. She hated when she was right. And she especially hated that she seemed to be the only one who gave a fuck. All her instincts were screaming at her; _Omega! Danger! Protect!_ She wanted to snarl at the oblivious people around her; couldn’t they see someone was in trouble?

It hadn’t always been this way though. The Empire had done its best to beat people down, and a method of survival had definitely been to mind your own business. Or else be thrown in an Imperial prison. She concentrated on following the loud group of alphas; there were four of them and some of the things they were yelling at the spooked omega were disgusting.

“Hey sweetheart, you’d look so good locked around my knot.”

The omega was walking faster now, his panicked scent irritating her nostrils.

“Hey, you fucking knotslut, we’re talking to you!”

 _Who the fuck do these people think they are?_ Cara growled to herself. Her teeth were itching, elongating as she prepared herself for a fight. These were definitely the worst kind of alpha; the entitled kind.

It was only when she was closer, did she recognize the scent and realise that she _knew_ this particular omega. What the hell was Din doing here?! What the hell was he _wearing!?_

She paused, looking at her friend more closely and recognized the garb from descriptions. The hood stitched in mimicry of a Mandalorian helm, the cloak covering him head to toe; Mandalorian Omega wear. It was one of those fucking stereotypical outfits that Cara had heard about but dismissed as rumour.

She growled as she approached the group, there weren’t many of the alphas and Din’s clothing was something to figure out later. One of them turned around, and hissed at her, “What the hell!? Are you fucking knotless? This bitch is — ” Cara took great pleasure in punching him in the face.

Din moved then, gracefully coming from behind one of the distracted alphas to lock them in a chokehold. The surprised gurgling noises made Cara grin, as did the distinctive snap of a neck breaking. He tossed the now-dead idiot aside, and ducked as another alpha rage-charged him. The alpha roared a challenge and Din met it head-on, twisting underneath the man to jab at his throat before pinning him to the ground.

The outfit seemed to surprisingly not hinder Din’s movements, or else the man was practiced at moving with it in. She didn’t like that thought; that Din had been forced to wear something that displayed his scent and marked him as lesser.

Cara tossed him a blaster, pleased that he instinctively snatched it out of the air. “Hey Mando! Good to see you again!”

Din growled softly in response, surprising her, though he cocked the blaster in preparation. “Thanks for the help, but you kinda ruined the plan!” He chuckled then, distressed scent easing with confusing immediacy, becoming a burning sort of glee.

They settled into a sort of rhythm then, a similar dance that they had done on Sorgan, then on Nevarro. Din, still no less deadly despite his seeming lack of armour, moved swiftly amid the attackers, subduing one at a time. Cara felt no remorse unloading her blaster into their heads; who knew how many others they had preyed upon?

Once the four lay motionless on the ground, she turned to Din and grinned.

“So tell me Mando, what the hell are you wea - ”

A massive Mandalorian dropped out of the sky, the heavy growl cutting her off. Cara had a moment to observe a hefty railgun pointing at her, the likes of which she had no defence against, before Din moved in between them. All she could scent was pure, alpha _rage_. It burned against her nostrils and all her instincts screamed at her to protect the omega!

“Din - !” She made a move to grab him, but he easily moved out of the way. Instead he placed himself firmly between her and the hulking alpha, and all Cara wanted to do was scream at him and protect and...

" _Riduur, udesii. Kaysh Tomad bal ni burc'ya._ " Easy husband. She's an ally and my friend.

Cara blinked. She had no idea what Din had said, but she stared, amazed as the larger Mandalorian stood down immediately, his rage scent disappearing so abruptly that her own instincts shorted out. What the fuck had just happened?

Din walked over, placing a hand on that armoured chest. “The targets have been pacified. Though unfortunately, we’ll have to take a lower fee. They’re dead.”

Cara blinked at him, but Din didn’t say anything accusing in her direction. The Omega stretched, adjusting his robe.

“Let’s get back to the ship, I want out of these clothes.”

The Alpha Mandalorian (there was nothing else someone of that size and demeanor could be) rumbled a reply, and Cara couldn’t tell if it was annoyance or agreement. Without a word, he slung two of the alpha bodies over his shoulders and began walking off.

She looked at Din and he made a gesture at the remaining two, and Cara found herself sighing. “Sure, but you can tell me what the fuck that was just about.”

Din nodded, “back at the ship,” and turned walking away with one of the corpses.

What had she just put her herself into?

\---

She stood in the Razor Crest, the hulking Mandalorian Alpha standing a few paces ahead of her, separating her from the portion of the ship where Din was changing out of sight. She shifted her weight uncomfortably, feeling the weight of the massive Mando’s glare, even as she suppressed her own scent.

“So, Reedor, is it?” she asked, wanting to end the awkward silence.

The large Mandalorian in front of her snorted. “My name is Paz. Din was addressing me as his husband.”

“Ah.” Cara frowned, shifting awkwardly in the small space between them. “I see.” So this was the alpha mate that Din had spoken about. He certainly looked like the perfect alpha specimen but she didn’t quite like the way he acted around Din. The overly emotional and dominant alpha didn’t quite match up with what Din had described.

She thought about it, and it still upset her in light of what she’d witnessed. “Then how the hell do you justify putting him through that shit back there?” Cara couldn’t keep the growl out of her words. She suddenly found herself furious! Back on Sorgan, Din had talked to her about her views on Mandalorian omegas, and she had assumed that the garb she had seen Din wearing just didn’t happen. Apparently she was wrong.

“What shit?” The large Mandalorian growled in return, his scent started to turn smoky with building anger.

“That fucking outfit you had him in! Using him as fucking bait!? Who the fuck does that?!”

“Mandalorians honour their omegas,” Paz growled. “It is their choice to wear the old garb. To willingly draw danger upon one’s self, to be a warrior even when they’re the most vulnerable? They are the most worthy of honour out of all of us.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question about _why_ he was fucking wearing it!”

“Good to see you two getting along,” Din interrupted softly. Hearing his voice through the modulator of his helmet was actually a relief for Cara. She turned in time to watch him haphazardly throw the offending garment on a nearby bench.

“ _Riduur_ ,” Paz murmured, holding his hand out. Din took it without hesitation, and found himself wrapped up in his husband’s arms with a soft clink. He allowed it, if only to soothe the other’s ruffled alpha instincts.

It was silent then. Cara’s scent still lightly broadcasted that she was angry; the Mandalorians now completely scentless, but by their body language she could tell that Din was relaxed around the man, though his husband was clearly possessive of the bounty hunter.

Din clunked his helmet against the other’s, gloved hand resting on his husband's shoulder. It seemed so intimate that Cara had to look away for a moment. Then Din spoke, soft as always, “To answer your question, it’s one of the oldest deceptions in the book. An omega dresses up as helpless bait to lure a group of targets. Another Mandalorian is back up and waits for the signal. Works like a treat.”

“Would have worked fine if not for some interference,” the larger man growled.

“Hush,” Din murmured. “Cara is an ally of mine. She merely saw what I acted as, and took the same bait, albeit, to my defense.”

Cara stared, a little wide-eyed as the alpha’s body language slumped at the slight reprimand.

“Not that I knew it was you at first.” Cara smiled, relaxing slightly. “There are plenty of assholes out here that do try to take advantage of omegas. I was pretty confused when I caught your scent.”

“Fools, the lot of them,” Din’s husband growled. Then his helmet tilted to the side, “Wait, how do you know what Din smells like? You been sniffing his things?”

“ _Riduur_ ,” Din said, warning in his tone.

She snorted. “I stitched up some of his wounds back on Sorgan.”

“...oh.”

Din grunted something in Mando’a that made Paz sigh regretfully and reply in the same language, tone suggesting that he’d been chastised. Then the big Alpha turned back to Cara.

“Forgive my lack of manners, it was… something to learn what happened to him when we were separated.”

“On Sorgan?”

“No...on Nevarro.”

She watched as his arm tightened around Din, his helmet clunking against the others. “Yeah it… it was bad.”

She imagined having a much loved mate, being separated for months on end, only to learn upon reunion that they’d almost died several times over. She’d probably be just as possessive as the big guy in his place. She let out a long sigh, before looking at the two Mandalorians again, resolving to start over with Din’s husband.

Din moved away from his mate and towards the small fridge, and the larger Mandalorian’s attention immediately fixed itself unwaveringly on Cara again. She watched as he angled himself to be between the omega and her. She couldn’t help but sigh at the display. This might be harder than she originally thought; even though Din had assured him, he was still clearly wound up from earlier and being territorial to boot.

“Din, I might - ” _leave you and your husband alone._

“Would you like - ”

She and Din had spoken at the same time. Cara smiled and gestured at Din to continue.

He nodded, “Do you want to stay for tea?”

Ah, short and to the point he was. She watched as Paz’s hand tightened, then relaxed.

Din noticed too. He tilted his head slightly, murmuring in mando’a again.

Paz’s entire body went rigid, a soft growl beginning to rumble from his chest.

Din huffed, and continued to speak softly.

The large alpha seemed to snap back a reply, and Din shook his head. Still his voice didn’t change, soft as anything while the alpha continued to be more defensive, his replies getting longer and longer while Din stood there, the same short replies as before. Paz stood, drawing up his full height and standing over the smaller man.

Was he trying to dominate Din in front of her?! Fuck, what the hell did Din see in this knothead?

Before she could stop herself, a short growl erupted from her chest, and she took a step towards Paz to do...something. Either way, Din was her friend and she wasn’t just going to stand by and see him be taken advantage of!

Except, she didn’t count for both the men to stand completely down at her growl. Even through the helmets, she could tell both of them were confused.

She stopped and blinked. “Alright...someone has to tell me what the fuck is up right now.”

Paz bristled, but Din laid a hand on his pauldron and the alpha visibly deflated. A light push and the alpha allowed himself to be pushed back into his seat, bowing his head in a clearly submissive gesture.

What. The. Fuck. Was happening?

Din sighed, “Sorry, I know it's rude to have a disagreement in front of others. That is not our way usually.” The omega rested his hand on Paz’s shoulder, squeezing slightly. Paz visibly calmed, reaching up to return the squeeze, though didn’t let go of Din’s hand. His head remained submissive, letting his husband speak to her.

“As you know, Paz is my bondmate.” Din spoke softly, slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “He’s ...anxious, because we were trying to lure those gangsters into a more secluded area to interrogate them. It’s not...comfortable for either of us, to have me be out of my armour.”

Cara blinked. That was...not the response she had expected.

Din continued though. “And then I didn’t show up at the fore arranged meeting place and well, Paz thought I’d been caught and that’s when he showed up guns blazing.” Din sighed. “The last time we got separated was when I fled Nevarro with the child, and we...lost contact for a bit.”

Paz’s head then turned towards her, and he seemed to deep his head lower towards her. “My apologies for the misunderstanding.”

If her eyes got any bigger, they were going to pop out of her head. She found herself stammering a reply, “Well...that’s totally...fair...to be worried about that…”

Paz grunted something in mando’a and Din just laughed. “She knows as much about Mandalorian culture as any _aruetii_. You were much more forgiving with Goran.”

“Goran was a child,” Paz muttered.

Din laughed even harder. “Then stop living up to her misconceptions, _utreekov_.”

The large alpha crossed his arms and looked away, huffing.

Without meaning to, Cara burst out laughing. Even with the visor, she could just imagine the other man pouting. The entire scenario was just...strange, and she expected it was about to get a little weirder. Still, to be able to catch this rare glimpse into such a secluded culture...she couldn’t help but feel a little honoured.

“ _Ori'buyce, kih'kovid_ ,” Din chuckled at his husband.

Paz just huffed again, and Din reached out, firmly grasping his shoulder and slipped his arms around his husband's chest.

“Now, about that tea?” Din murmured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the gyst of what happened between Din and Paz (because from Cara's POV, she is essentially clueless at what just happened).
> 
> Paz is not relaxed around Cara, and Din is telling Paz off because he's acting possessive and territorial. Paz does do as Din requests.
> 
> They're talking in mando'a so as to not embarasss Paz, but Cara completely misinterprets it. Mando'a a very in-your-face and short language, and Din is being very laconic, but Paz is basically rambling on about how worried he was.
> 
> So Cara has basically misinterpreted that Din is being submissive and his opinions are not being heard, when its actually Paz who is submissive xD
> 
> \---
> 
> Thankyou to hawkeykirsah and redvelvetpanda for beta reading <3

**Author's Note:**

> A HUGE thankyou to [MissTeeVee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissTeaVee/pseuds/MissTeaVee), who is an amazing writer and helps me come up with some pretty damn awesome ideas <3 Go check out her work <3
> 
> I'm in the middle of the next chapter, and have at least 3 more planned for after that.
> 
> Also, if you love the Mandalorian, come join our [server!](https://discord.gg/PdY65hj) We're a bunch of real open-minded peeps who love Star Wars <3


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